I’m in the “magic” business. I create magical moments for travelers all over the world. Sometimes I forget how impactful they are for my customers.

 

I was reminded of two memorable experiences last week – both of which involved my longest-running (24+ years) customer, the National Electrical Contractors Association (NECA). Both were stand-out experiences – for very different reasons. One I would love to re-create. The other I’d just as soon forget.

First – the fabulous story:

It was June of 2005, on the final morning of our program in Florence and I was feeling a special kind of contentment and satisfaction that comes when 160 well-traveled customers with high expectations are happy and when all of our painstaking efforts have fallen into place. These are the moments that make the pre-trip tedium of endless emails and minutiae worth the effort. The group had enjoyed every moment of their stay, soaking up the Florentine art, food, wine, gelato and sunshine.

My VP of Operations, Gabriel, had come here months before to do site visits and confirm the arrangements. I was curious about the Palazzo Pandolfini where our farewell party would take place that night. The information on the website included its rich history: “…built at the end of the 15th century for the bishop Giannozzo Pandolfini. The garden and the palace were embellished with statues, fountains and water displays – gifts from Pope Leo X.”

So I went with my local agent, Dario, to check it out. We walked a few blocks, to a rather unremarkable part of town which was (unfortunately) defiled – as was much of Florence – with graffiti.

“This is it?” I wondered.

I was thrilled when I stepped through the nondescript entrance into a magnificent property. What a find! It was built during the Renaissance, and the ground-floor salons of the palatial residence were impressive, with terrazzo tile, sparkling chandeliers and oil paintings in heavy gold-leaf frames. No single room was large enough for the entire group, so Gabriel had wisely planned that the dinner be outdoors.

Narrow French doors opened onto a sunny formal garden with manicured topiaries and classic marble statuary. It was only ten a.m. but the set-up crew were busy rolling in the banquet rounds, polishing the cutlery and wiring up the audio system for the string quartet and the after-dinner surprise entertainment we’d planned.

“Perfecto!” I said to Dario.

Back at our hospitality desk in the lobby of the Grand Hotel Baglioni, I helped Gabriel with departure notices and other typical final-day tasks. Throughout the afternoon, our participants flowed through the revolving doors to drop off their shopping bags and escape the heat.

At about four o’clock my phone rang. It was Dario. “I need you to make the call. Do we move the party indoors?”

“What?” I asked, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

“Have you been outside? It’s going to rain any minute.”

I rushed though the revolving door. The sky looked ominous with heavy, gray, low-hanging clouds. Back in Michigan, we called them thunderheads. As a gust of wind whipped the pages of my clipboard I asked Dario in disbelief, “How soon do you need a decision?”

“Now. I need an answer now,” he insisted. “The tables won’t fit through the French doors. We can’t simply pick them up and move them inside. Everything needs to be broken down and re-set. We don’t have time to wait.”

I thought about the small, formal rooms in the palazzo and envisioned how the group would be split between three different spaces. Without air-conditioning, I  imagined how humid and uncomfortable it would be with the accumulated warmth of 160 bodies. I despaired about the poor sightlines and lousy acoustics and the lost impact of our surprise entertainment.

I looked heavenward, “How can this be happening?”

I could hear Dario on the line, waiting for permission to move 160 gold Chiavari chairs and dismantle 20 fully-set dinner tables.

My heart pounded and mind raced. Gabriel was looking heavenward with a despairing look that matched my mood. “Ten minutes. I’ll give you an answer in ten minutes,” I said.

“What do we do, Marilyn?” Gabriel asked when I hung up.

“I don’t know! I can’t believe this is happening! Our party is going to be a disaster. I cannot disappoint my NECA people . . .”

My voice trailed off as I thought frantically, “There must be a solution. There’s always a solution.” With thirty years under my belt, there was always an acceptable Plan B.

“We don’t have a choice, do we?” Gabriel asked.

At that moment, there was a furious clap of thunder and the skies opened up with a torrential downpour.

I dialed the phone. “Move it in,” I said dejectedly.

Back inside the hotel, Gabriel tried to console me:

“You always tell me that what customers don’t know about, they’ll never miss. It’ll be fine. The rooms are nice and everyone will be impressed. It’ll be fine, yadda, yadda, yadda . . . ” I had stopped listening. I always feel responsible for creating magical experiences – especially for this client. They’ve come to expect it from me, year after year. I still could not believe that nature was messing with my perfect party plans!

I don’t remember much about the next 15 minutes. I was in a stupor. Yeah, I knew that people would still enjoy the evening. The food would be delicious and they’d drink a lot of good wine. Yes, they’d love the entertainment. They’d never know how magical it was supposed to be.

But I would know.

Once again, I repeated my mantra, “It was a perfect day, an absolutely perfect day. This cannot be happening!”

I knew that I wasn’t displaying exemplary leadership and thought it best to be by myself. I walked away from the hospitality desk to another room toward the front of the hotel. I went to a window where I witnessed the most amazing sight. My mood brightened instantly. I hit the redial button.

“It stopped raining!” I exclaimed to Dario. “We’re keeping it outdoors!”

The summer storm had passed quickly and there were patches of blue sky! Elated, I ran to give Gabriel the good news. If I could have picked him up and twirled him around, I would have! Hallelujah!

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A few hours later, the group arrived at the palazzo in horse-drawn carriages. As I had done earlier that morning, they gasped when they stepped through the entrance. They wandered through the front rooms with crystal flutes of Prosecco, admiring the furnishings and paintings. Out in the garden, through the French doors, people were claiming their tables and saving seats for their friends. There were “oohs and aahs” all through the delicious dinner service. There were a million stars and – of course – a full moon. The soft classical background music was perfect.

Just after coffee was poured, we motioned for all servers to go indoors and signaled for the tenor to go onstage. Gabriel and I stood in a corner of the garden to watch the magic unfold. The string quartet began to play. The handsome young tenor began to sing. Conversations quieted, then silenced completely as everyone was mesmerized. When the applause subsided after the first song, we noticed couples holding hands. By the time he started to sing the famous, “Con te Partiro,” chairs had been shifted together and couples were holding onto each other like Italian lovers.

It’s difficult to describe the pure magic of that perfect night. Even as I write this, years later, I still get teary-eyed!

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So thank you, Patricia Connor, for your thank-you note which read, in part,

“Whenever I am stressed, I think about that BEAUTIFUL night in Florence…”

 

 

p.s.  You’ll have to wait till next week to read about the other unforgettable memory: a very entertaining (or so I’m told) disaster story!